Dobby the Orc
by ChocolateBunnyChan
Summary: Sometimes its the most improbable people that are the most incredible heroes. A Dobby and elfling!Harry adventure.
1. Chapter 1

**Don't ask where this fic came from, I don't know. But I started writing it years ago!**

 **I don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings**

Not many students were awake at 6 Am on a chilly Saturday morning, and Harry wished he could count himself among them- nothing would please him more than to go back to bed. But as it stood, he had no time to spare on sleep. He was already late in meeting Hermione in the library, fancy _that_. Only Hermione would order, er _ask_ him to study at 5:30 in the morning on a weekend! Thus being in a hurry he never saw the object on the corridor floor in the dim morning light. He just barely kept from breaking his neck as something rolled beneath his left foot sending him flailing backwards. Startled and very much awake after such an unexpected fall Harry searched for the culprit. It was a wand. It was made of a dark wood with what appeared to be small knots in the wood that stood out like a strange decoration.

Harry blinked as he leaned down to pick up the wand in the hallway. Instantly he felt a great warmth beneath his fingers as though he were greeting an old dear friend. Which was an odd sensation, for Harry Potter did not have any 'old' dear friends- at least none that had been separated from him by the space of years. In fact Harry could count his number of true friends on a single hand! As far as he was concerned he had only a single school friend, a young witch named Hermione Granger.

The one he had believed to be his best mate, Ronald Weasley, had unfortunately proven himself to be a betrayer of friendship. For Ron had abandoned him in his hour of need when he had been forced to compete in the Triwizard Tournament earlier this year.

It was only days ago after Harry had only just survived the Hungarian Horntail by the skin of his teeth and no small amount of luck that Ron had conveniently decided they were friends once more. Though Harry had taken Ron back it should be noted that the freckled boy would never again know the closeness they had once had- for the Potter did not forget betrayal lightly.

And so he thought he had no business feeling in this manner. Shaking his head he searched for the owner and he saw a bright purple robe with neon flamingos enchanted upon it. Professor Dumbledore was the only person in this hall and so there was the chance it was his. If not the Headmaster was sure to know of a way to reunite the wand and its owner.

"Erm…Excuse me Professor."

The man turned his attention from the portrait of a warty witch who was currently picking her nose with great zeal and smearing her boogers on the edge of the frame.

"Good morning Harry." he greeted kindly and Harry replied in kind, though it was not really much of a 'good' morning after slipping and nearly breaking ones neck.

"Is this your wand Sir?" Harry showed his headmaster the wand he'd found in the hall.

A look of astonishment crossed the old wizards face as he patted down his robes only to discover, indeed, his wand was missing. "It seems my boy, you are correct. Now if you will?" He held open his palm and Harry quickly deposited it. He missed the incredulous look upon his headmasters face as he gave up the wand so easily.

Harry Potter was a remarkable child in Albus' eyes. The boy had resisted the temptation of gold and immortality from the Philosopher's Stone and just now had shown no temptation for keeping the most powerful wand in all of existence. Though he doubted the boy even knew of the Elder Wand- the temptation would have been the same. For the wand was always attempting to cause chaos and to ensnare new owners.

Turning back to the amusing painting Albus heard young Harry scamper off utterly unaware that the Elder wand had indeed worked its chaos.

Harry groaned as he held his head in his palms, his head hurt from information overload. He'd been spending the entire Saturday devoted to solving the egg. No luck and as it were, Hermione was furiously researching in the library. Harry had been there too, pouring and peering over tome after tome and before he knew it they'd managed to miss not only lunch, but dinner as well!

He didn't mind learning new spells- Episky would be dead useful he was sure! But overload was no good- he'd remember very little if he crammed.

Hermione had begged to stay a bit longer but Harry could not ignore the fact that his body keenly wanted something to eat. So he'd made her promise to come down to the kitchens before curfew so that she wouldn't go hungry.

With a tickle of the pear on the portrait Harry found himself in the school kitchens where the house elves were bustling around most excitedly. Harry made his way over to a squashy armchair and a familiar face was soon at his elbow.

"Hullo Dobby, how are you?" He asked as he settled into the chair, content in the comfort- why did the library have only hard wooden chairs? You'd think that a place where students had to spend long periods of time would at least have comfy chairs. Harry had lost count of the times he'd had to cast cushioning charms on the ancient chair he'd effectively remained on all day. He was now so proficient with the spell he didn't need to say it out loud!

After a moments consideration he decided it was probably a way to keep students like Hermione and some of the more zealous Ravenclaws from simply living there. It made a staggering amount of sense.

"Dobby is always glad to be seeing his friend!" The house elf greeted as he handed the boy a sandwich. Dobby made the very best sandwiches

"See! Dobby has spent money on new socks!" And indeed he had, a pair of deep maroon fuzzy socks now adorned the house elves feet. They were normal sized socks and had to be tied with twine to be kept on the bony house elf's feet.

Harry reached out to touch them and Dobby let him, clearly eager to share in what he thought was a very wise investment indeed. They were as soft as they looked and even softer somehow. Perhaps Harry would buy a pair for cold winter nights and so he made sure to note where the elf had gotten them.

It was as Harry was enjoying a nice cup of tea, cream with one sugar, and listening to Dobby that something strange happened. It was as though the world had simply _shifted_ and decided to not take him along when it shifted. An impossible thing to describe let alone comprehend, yet there it was. A jarring, indescribable sensation overcame him as he stared down into his tea numbly and dimly saw Dobby frantically shaking his knee. But he couldn't feel the small hand or hear the sounds he knew were likely coming from the house-elf. The kitchens were growing darker now but he could see a bright blinding light in the periphery of his right side. And with that Harry knew no more.

!~!~!~!~!

Dobby could only blink his large watering eyes as he stared around in confusion. He had most certainly not been in the middle of a forest a moment ago, no, he had been with his Master Harry Potter at Hogwarts when the boy had snuck down to the kitchens to visit him and Winkey. The tri-wizard tournament that his young wizard friend found himself forced to compete in was truly dreadful.

Harry had been drinking tea and listening to him as he told his friend of how he'd been washing dishes earlier when something _happened_. Dobby couldn't put into words what had happened but saw his Master Harry Potter's eyes loose focus and slump forward as the tea cup shattered on the floor. He'd reached out to see if Harry was alright and now he was here, _outside_ in the _daytime_. It had been dark outside moments before.

The poor house elf startled when he spotted Harry's school robe on the ground, "Sir Harry Potter?" he called out tentatively. Crisp leaves crackled around him as he looked for his friend. They needed to get back to Hogwarts! Was this the work of Dark Wizards?

"Sirs' ears have become all pointy, they has!" Dobby exclaimed as he held up the shrunken boy. Harry Potter was now very young and small. If Dobby had to guess he would say his friend was now an infant of no older than a year, Harry was so very small. But Dobby was unsure as he was not around infants often. Still when held in Dobby's scrawny arms the boy was nearly half the size of the three foot tall house-elf.

"Why does Harry Potter not speak?" Dobby asked and the boy gurgled in reply. Perhaps he was now too small to speak. But the emerald orbs gazed upon him with familiarity so Dobby thought perhaps his friend could understand him.

The Great Wizard Dumbly-dore would surely be able to aid his Master Harry Potter Sir. Holding tightly to Harry Dobby made a crisp and powerful snap of his fingers, intent on returning to Hogwarts kitchens. But nothing happened. Dobby snapped his fingers a few more times and yet the two remained in the unfamiliar forest. Frowning Dobby set his sights on a branch upon the ground. A crisp snap later and the branch was now a small broom that began to sweep at the ground.

His magic still worked and yet he could not return. Dobby did not know why this was.

He was a _House_ \- Elf after all, he'd never traversed the outdoors beyond- very rarely tending to his old Master's gardens. Dobby was clueless as to what he needed to do as he waggled his bat-like ears in nervousness.

The wilderness made him uneasy, it was so very open and wild! In a heartbeat Dobby undid the twine about his socks and removed them, with a snap they were clean. He then placed one sock like a cap upon Harry's head, covering even his ears in order to save warmth. He then put the other upon his own noggin though he could not tuck his ears in. "Dobby knew these socks is being a fine investment!"

Wanting to ease his nervousness and that unending silence Dobby began to prattle recipes to the young wizard as he picked a direction to travel in. "-And that's why Dobby is finding two eggs is best in omelets Harry Potter Sir."

House-elf and babe walked late into the day when they quite literally ran into another group. They were some of the smallest people Dobby had ever seen and at first mistook them to be children. After a moment of confusion he realized they did not seem to be children. There were four of them and they frantically waved their arms and spoke in raised voices. Speaking a language unknown to him. _"Off the road, swiftly! You must flee the road!"_

"Dobby is not understandings what sirs is saying! Dobby doesn't speaks their language!" The distressed house elf wailed. The short creature did his best to shield his young wizard friend, unsure of these small men's intentions. They seemed panicked and insistent, but what if it were a trick or they were thieves?

Still one of the small men took Dobby's arm and pulled him along in a frantic run. Looking behind them Dobby understood the need to run- for upon a Thestral was a Dementor!

A tall man was suddenly there besides them as Dobby ran with all his might as Harry whimpered, seeming to realize that he must be silent. For that Dobby was thankful, he knew how demeanors affected the young Potter.

It seemed like hours before the group stopped their breakneck speed and Dobby was only a breath away from collapse, house-elves were not known for their long distance running skills. As he panted and rocked Harry the small group began to mutter and argue amongst themselves.

Large tennis ball sized eyes squeezed shut in anticipation of a blow if the angered tones of the unknown language were to be heeded. Harry began to cry lustily as he felt his guardian begin to shake in fear. After a fear fueled minute Dobby dared to peak open one of his eyes. The tall man who'd joined the run was speaking harshly to one of the small curly haired not-children.

" _At first I thought it was an old woman and her grandchild…_ " Merry explained to the man, _"We couldn't let a poor old dear and child be in the way of those things now could we?"_

" _It wasn't till we got closer that we realized it wasn't an old biddy. But still it had a babe…"_ Merry looked at his feet, feeling less heroic than he'd thought he'd feel under the wild ranger's stare.

Aragorn sighed as he stared the creature, they'd likely interrupted a meal in progress. Surprising the thing had yet to try to flee with its likely ill-gotten gain. Nor had it tried to finish its meal.

The strange band of people had not moved seemingly content in staring at the poor shaking house elf and crying babe. Hesitantly Dobby began to bounce the young wizard on his shoulder as he had once done for his former master Malfoy when he was a babe. Harry began to calm a bit, the wails subsiding to a hiccoughing fit. The man who appeared to be the leader of the ragtag group approached the small house elf and circled him. A fine and sharp tip of a sword always pointed, always ready.

" _What manner of creature are you_?" Aragorn tried to ask the incredibly odd orc, if the creature was indeed an orc at all. It was becoming clear that this thing had no intention of eating the baby in its arms. For one thing- food was never comforted before it was devoured! Another thing, Orcs rarely used the traveling roads preferring to lay in wait in the woods. Why had it been on an open road?

" _The child. Where did you get it, Orc?_ " it didn't answer, only nervously watched the sharp tip of his sword. Perhaps it needed persuasion. He swung the blade enough to nick the creature's cheek- making it stumble away in self preservation, it babbled something vaguely accusatory at him but did not set the child down or run.

There was no time for this Strider realized as he turned from the orc and called to the Hobbits to continue onward.

Dobby had yet to see any other travelers so despite the threatening one with the sword he decided it best to follow. The direction in which they came had a dementor, leaving only one way left to go. He'd just be sure to stay out of reach of the tall scraggily man. The house-elf had plenty of practice in such matters, it was no different than avoiding his former Master's cane.

Nervously wiggling his ears Dobby timidly trailed after the group, whispering to Harry Potter to ease his ruined nerves. Once they were home he'd never venture from his safe kitchens ever again!

~!~!~!

It was comical how the creature held the babe above its head as it trudged through the waist deep swamp. Or it would've been, if the hobbits themselves were not so miserable trudging through the very same swamp. Thankfully the bulk of mosquitoes seemed far more interested in the plump halflings than the swaddled child and scrawny house elf.

The small group was surprised by the fact the creature seemed intent on following them after several days. Strider had assured them the creature would loose interest once it realized they would not be easy meals to pick off. It was Sam who'd rejected the idea that it wanted to eat them and instead suggested that they offer it food perhaps it would leave. But the effect was the exact opposite, just as Strider had feared. The orc only became more bold, venturing closer to the fire at night to lay its small man child nearer to the fire as it slept. It did not try to communicate with them, merely stayed just out of reach.

And as much as the ranger wanted to slay the creature and be done with it, the beast took better care of the child than their company could at present time. Inexplicably the creature would have milk in the small canteen that Frodo had reluctantly given it when it panted pathetically at a river, gulping water desperately. But no one ever saw it leave the periphery of their group. Yet there was always milk in the canteen for the poor babe.

The child never seemed to need to be cleaned as Strider knew babies needed to be often- it never smelled foul. The orc never stopped once. It made a better traveller than the hobbits who cried and complained of hunger after a few hours.

But by jove did this one enjoy snapping its long spindly fingers, annoying really.

 **I know, I know but yeah… Got a new computer and found this old thing buried in my old one sooo…. Yeah…. My answer to Elfling Harry.**

 **Like it? Hate it? Have ideas? Let me know!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter**

They were upon the crumbling ruins of a tower of some sort as Dobby tended to the fire the hairy-footed people urged him to make. They were always hungry. He watched as the sleeping one, _Frodo,_ wake up at the scent of meat frying. The man with the sword had made it clear they were to stay here until he returned. Dobby watched as the man became angry and yelled at his companion. It would seem someone disliked bacon then.

"W _hat are you doing? Put it out you fools! Put it out!" Frodo_ cried as he rushed over to extinguish the flames.

Dobby watched in dread as the sky darkened, the prickle of dark magic thick in the air. Poor little Harry must have sensed it too for he began to cry inconsolably. Dobby muttered softly, hoping the man with the sword would return swiftly.

~!~!~!~!

Strider ran as hard as he could t the ruins when he saw black clouds stir in the sky.

One of the Nazgul stood towering over the strange orc reaching for the child. The orc did not want to relinquish its babe and was snapping its fingers at the Nazgul.

It only served to make the wraith more interested in the strange pair and the others were drifting from the hobbits to turn their attentions to them.

Seeming to realize its folly, the orc scrabbled up the precarious stones of the watchtower. Once it reached the top it placed the child behind itself and stood bravely. Both hands were facing the wraiths and with twin powerful snaps of its fingers chaos began. The stones beneath one of the wraiths crumbled to dust, sending it off the tower. Another drew its sword only to be met with the frying pan _flying_ through the air to take on the sword.

More stones inexplicably crumbled until only the wraith fighting with the pan remained.

Magic. The orc was doing magic to defend the baby Aragorn realized as he raced up the crumbling tower to aid the child.

Unfortunately one of the wraiths had made its way back up the tower and engaged him in combat. Swinging his sword and torch Aragorn cursed beneath his breath. He'd never make it!

The orc had been batted away by the last wraith, it's interest solely in the child. Aragorn shouted in anger at the creature and did his best to fight off the wraith he was currently facing so that he might defend the helpless babe.

The moment it touched the wailing babe it began to screech in pain. Aragorn could only watch as the wraith held its hand as it began to dissolve into ashes. Its cloak began to blister as though it were being torched from deep within. Moments later all that remained of the Nazgul was a pile of ash near a crying babe and a ring of power scorched black.

The ring wraith Strider had been fighting began to flee as though it knew that it's companion had been felled. Soon the group was alone on the ruins.

" _You said they would go only after the ring!"_ Frodo called to him from where he and the other three Hobbits were huddled, " _Why did it approach the babe?"_

Strider ignored the Hobbit in favor of climbing Amon Sul to reach the child.

The moment Strider made his way to the babe he was tackled by the orc it's tone pleading and protective as it tried to shove him away from the child.

"You is leaving Harry Potter sir alone! Alone, Dobby says!" Dobby pleaded with the strange man to keep his distance from Harry. The man froze in his position holding his hands up placatingly. Narrowing his eyes at the ragity human Dobby scrambled back to Harry and did his best to comfort him.

~!~!~!~!~!~! **From this point on English will be** _ **'italicised**_ **' and Westron will be "plain" !~!~!~!~!~!~!**

Strider could only watch as the child was cared for by it's orc minder his mind disturbed by last night's wraith slaying. That a babe could slay an undead wraith with only a touch was beyond any realms of credulity his mind could perceive. He stared at the wide green eyes that stared back at him from the orcs shoulder. Its head was covered in a maroon oddly shaped cap and swaddled in a black cloth that looked like it was actually a garment of some sort. The eye contact remained until the little one began to drool.

The babe's name must be Harry for that was about all of what he could make out of the Orc's ramblings. The child and the creature wore matching hats of the same strange maroon.

He'd never seen an orc wear maroon before nor had he ever seen such a very clean orc. Instead of a dirty mottled grey flesh color this one had a pale yet tan look to it and it was very boney. It was even dressed strangely- it wore what looked to be a white cloth bag that had crude head and armholes and it was brought in at the waist with a small piece of twine.

Strider was most put out by the creature for it was perhaps the most unusual thing he'd ever come across in all of his years as a ranger. The only close contender was the time he'd stumbled across a village in which a young warg had been mistaken for a puppy and raised as such. The warg that thought it was a house-dog had always been at the near top of oddities, but this civilized orc was taking the cake.

And civilized it was indeed, for it had somehow managed to take over the cooking duties. At first Strider had chased it away from the food, fearing poisoning. A rather unfounded worry it would seem as the orc proved to be quite an accomplished chef. And it never seemed outright hostile towards their group, rather it was fearful and skittish. But it was kind to its human babe called Harry.

And Harry and the orc were as strange a pair as ever he'd seen. The child was unafraid of the beast, not that the orc was terribly frightening. Still every instinct had him watching the babe- not wanting to trust the beast for even a moment. He'd kill the orc the moment he even suspected it would harm the child.

Samwise chuckled at the sight and wiped away the drool with the handkerchief he held in his coats pocket.

"May I hold him? Is it even a him?" Sam tried to ask the orc. It stared at him dumbly as it continued walking. The hobbit then pantomimed holding a child in his arms before pointing at the babe.

The orc's eyes widened so much that the Hobbit feared the creature's eyes might pop out of it head.

It clutched at the babe and shook its head frantically before sprinting several steps ahead of the hobbit.

"Funny little thing, isn't it?" Pippin remarked at the creature's tiny back.

Merry nodded, "I thought Orcs were supposed to be horrible ugly things."

Strider replied, "They are."

"Then what do you suppose is wrong with this one?" Frodo asked as he watched the orc gently try to pry the babe's hand from its large ears. It was obvious that this orc didn't possess a cruel bone in its small body. It was honestly about the same height of a hobbit- just over three feet tall. But this creature was far thinner than any self-respecting hobbit ever would be.

"Do you suppose, that this child has been kidnapped? Should we ought to be worried? What if it asks for ransom?" Samwise worried aloud as he huffed and adjusted his heavy pack. They certainly had no gold nor jewels for such ransom.

Strider scowled, "They are hardly smart enough for that. Orcs kill and eat, torture and maim. They do not hold ransom."

"Such a cute baby though, are all man babes so cute?" Pippin asked before he made a funny face at the staring green eyes. But the baby didn't smile, merely whimpered and buried its face in the orc's neck.

"Did my eyes deceive me or did the babe slay the Nazgul last night Strider?" Frodo dared to voice the question. No one had dared to mention the strange spectacle they'd borne witness to, afraid of even the implications of acknowledging the strange feat.

Strider was silent a moment before admitting, "I do not know what we saw last night. Nor do I pretend to understand it. Perhaps in Rivendell we shall find answers."

~!~!~!~!~! Rivendell!~!~!~!~!~!

"Dah-byyy! Dah-by! Da da da!" Harry chanted in baby talk as he reached to his friend.

The little one attempted to use the footboard of the bed to pull himself up, but wobbly legs collapsed beneath him after a moment promptly causing young Harry to conk his head on the wooden footboard. The child sat stunned for a mere second before he decided that had hurt and began to wail.

" _Has Harry Potter sir hurt hisself?!_ " Dobby sprang from the bed over to his friend. Swiftly deft long fingers took off the fuzzy sock serving as a baby hat, inspecting the boy's head for bumps.

The house elf never noticed the elderly hobbit as the man passed by.

"Oh how grand Gandalf!" Bilbo smiled at his old friend as he left the hall of healing where Frodo (whom had sprained his ankle on the way into Rivendell) currently resided.

"And what may I ask old friend, is grand?" The wizard gave the hobbit a peaceful smile. It was always nice to be in Rivendell, the last homely home indeed. He only wished he had more time to put up his feet here from time to time.

"Why, the little elf and it's orc caretaker. I've never seen such an odd orc- caring for the little elf so tenderly." Bilbo commented before continuing, "As I understood it Orcs and Elves were enemies, shows how much I know having been in the Shire for so long."

"I say Gandalf, are you all right? Your pipe has gone out." The hobbit stated as the wizard froze in shock.

"As I understood it, the babe you speak of is quite Mannish, Bilbo." Indeed that was the tale told to him by Aragorn. That the Nazgul riders had set upon them so suddenly in Bree that they had unwittingly put the traveling orc and the human babe in a great deal of danger.

The odd pair had no choice in joining them on the road. And that the orc spoke not a word of proper speech, not unsurprising really. But the creature seemed docile enough, seemingly more concerned with its charge than with anything else.

It was only by the insistence of the Hobbits that the creature was allowed into the city. They'd pleaded and begged that the creature would do no harm or to at least give it provisions to care for the poor hungry baby.

Elves were not a race so cruel as to allow a baby to starve and thus the creature was placed under the watchful eyes of guards and escorted to the halls of healing. For the past four days Gandalf had heard nothing more of the creature, nor of it spying as the elves feared it would.

It remained in the room with its mannish babe content with its surroundings. There were even whispers that a healer had caught the creature on its hands and knees _scrubbing_ the stone floor with a rag while _singing_ a rather cheerful tune.

A guard insisted to anyone who would listen that the orc had jumped up and down on the bed with its ward, _laughing_. Utter rubbish to be sure!

Bilbo fretted, "Is that so? Then perhaps these old eyes have begun to deceive me. I could have sworn it had pointed ears."

Gandalf found the queer little orc and it's charge upon a bed in the Halls of healing. It spoke to the babe in a high pitch voice as it tilted a leather milk bladder for the infant to drink from. The child's head was covered in a strange maroon cap- matching the one worn by the orc.

He could not tell if it had pointed ears as Bilbo claimed. A case most curious but he had no time for his curiosity now, for the fate of all Middle Earth depended upon this council.

This time watchful green eyes did see the tall figure in the doorway.

While it was no wand, but he'd heard that wizards had once used staffs. The pointy hat was unmistakable! That was surely a wizard if he'd ever seen one! And where a wizard was, surely a way for Dobby and Harry Potter to get home would be.

Gathering Harry into his arms Dobby tapped at the guards knees (and how nice these people were, giving Harry Potter proper protection in this state!) as he informed them," _Dobby is going to be seeing the Wizard now. Thank you for your services to Harry Potter!"_

With that he bowed so low his ears touched the floor- the two guards erupted with laughter. Giving the house elf the minutes he needed to slip past them.

" _Sir in the pointy hat is being a Wizard, yes?_ " Dobby asked as he approached what seemed to him an outdoor get together, for several people were standing in a circle. They all stood beside one another- the four short people, the raggedy man, a man who was slightly less scraggly, a stout man with a huge beard, and a slender and tall man. They were not speaking with one another and so Dobby felt it safe to intrude. Shifting Harry to a shoulder Dobby made his way to the wizard and tugged upon his sleeve.

" _Dobby is needing help in getting Harry Potter Sir, and myself home to Hogwarts Mr. Wizard. Could you be helping us?"_ He looked up at the wizard. And what a wizard he was! The magic surrounding this being was old and mighty.

Harry sneezed suddenly causing his sock-cap to slide from his head. The tall man in the group was kind enough to reach down to pick up the garment as tiny green eyes watched curiously. Snatching the sock from the stranger Dobby eyed the group warily as he attempted to place the cap on with a single hand, not wanting the strange people touching Sir Harry Potter in such a state. Perhaps Mr Grand Wizard could return Harry to his normal state as well.

Tiny tipped ears poked out from the messy birds nest of hair as the cap was placed eliciting a gasp from the prince of Mirkwood. In a flash he had an arrow notched and ready to fly.

"Stay your bow, Legolas" Warned Aragorn as he tugged the orc behind him, shielding him and the child.

"The babe is an Elf!" The cry from the blond man stirred the interest of the other elves present and soon there were shouts of agreement.

The baby in question did not seem to care in the slightest of what was going on around him instead preferring to tug on Dobby's long ears.

" _Dobby is not understanding! You will not take Harry Potter from Dobby!"_ The house elf cried as he backpedaled from the increasingly unruly group.

With a harsh snap of his fingers Dobby and Harry were back in the halls of healing. Wasting no time Dobby fled from the place, out onto the serene streets of this town.

Numerous unnamed back alleys were traversed swiftly in hopes of avoiding any unwanted pursuers. The people they'd encountered had been very hostile. Dobby had foolishly thought that if the ragtag group they had arrived with were friends with a wizard chances were that the wizard could tell Dobby how to return to Hogwarts.

He had not accounted for the fact that the wizard might also not speak English.

Without thinking he sprang into a house as something clattered in the alley behind him.

Turning from the door Dobby saw a woman seated at a table, a piece of jewelry dangling from long fingers. Dobby was struck by the resemblance, he'd seen photos of his friends parents in the Daily Prophet.

For the entirety of the months of November and December after Harry Potter defeated Voldemort the pictures of the Potter family had been in the papers. Dobby had clipped one from a paper and had kept it hidden in his small space in the Malfoy Manor. He'd recognize Lily Potter anywhere and here was her near double.

Harry seemed to think so too as he cooed and reached out towards the lady who'd leapt to her feet as shouts came from outside.

If Sir Harry Potter trusted this woman then so would Dobby. For Dobby was a good and loyal elf.

And so the little house elf offered up his young master to the woman. At first she seemed confused and slowly reached for the grasping baby. As soon as he was in her arms Harry cooed and claimed a fist of red hair pulling upon it merrily, "Mama!"

The woman repeated the child's word, " _Mama?_ Do you mean Nana, little one _?"_

Frenzied shouts sounded from outside and Dobby knew they were being sought out.

"A child! Swiftly now, we must find the child!"

" _Do not go out there Missy Lady who is looking so much like Misses Lily! Theys is searching for Master Harry Potter! They is wanting him! Do not let them take Mister Harry Potter! "_ Dobby begged the woman as she stood and opened the door. Shouts came from every directions and Elven Guardsmen poured through the streets frantic in their search.

Realizing he couldn't stop her Dobby clutched at her leg, " _Take Master Harry Potter to the Wizard! Dobby begs the lady! To the Wizard! Is lady understanding?"_

He didn't think so because she took them the large building Dobby had just come from. Glaring at the woman he called up to Harry who was poking the woman's cheeks, " _Do not be worrying Harry Potter, Dobby is making sure we is being safe! Dobby promises to get Harry Potter to the wizard!"_

" _Dah-by!"_ the boy looked down at him with a smile, it was good that Harry had faith in his poor Dobby.

"Tauriel!" A familiar voice called out to her from the steps of Lord Elronds halls.

"Prince Legolas? What brings you here?" For the briefest moment she hoped the prince was here to say she was no longer banished from Mirkwood but his blue eyes traveled to the baby. The creature released its hold on her leg and darted towards Gandalf, ending her conversation with the prince.

" _See Harry Potter? Dobby is a good elf, here is the Great Wizard we be seeking!"_ Dobby cried as he clutched at the wizard's sleeve, mindful of the staff.

"You are Tauriel of the Mirkwood, are you not?" Gandalf kept one eye upon the orc that was _smiling happily_. That was reason enough to cause a great deal of concern.

"Those are no longer my lands, Gandalf." she bowed her head to the wizard.

"Ah, yes. You were banished were you not.?" The wizard never was known for his tact. He could speak in riddles if he so pleased or be as blunt as a hammer, "What seems to be the problem?"

"I thought you might be able to tell me. This creature is quite eager to gain your attentions. It barged into my home and handed me a child. And it has scarcely stopped to draw breath as it worries and babbles at me." she shifted the child in her arms so that the wizard could see it better.

Lord Elrond placed a hand upon the small of her back and ushered her inside, beckoning the wizard to follow.

 **That's right! I freaking brought Taulriel into the equation! I wondered where she went after the Hobbit so yeah… Also Frodo was never stabbed.**

 **Please leave a review if you liked this, because I've got no idea where to take it. Suggestions are aways appreciated! Don't worry in the next chapter we might get Harry's side, maybe!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter**

Gandalf gazed down at the babe who had been placed upon the table. Glittering emerald green eyes that he'd never seen quite the equal to gazed back up at him. A sweet coo came from the child as it clumsily reached for his beard.

Sticking his tongue out in a silly gesture he smoothed back the messy and wild hair from its forehead. An ugly red scar glared up at the wizard- dark magic pulsed from it in sickening waves. Touching it Gandalf experienced an echo from the magic- the scream of a frightened woman, an evil laugh and a blinding green light.

"Someone has tried to murder this babe with dark magic." A moment later the wizard wished he'd chosen his words with better tact. Elrond had lost all color in his face and Prince Legolas looked utterly wounded.

"Murder? You are certain Gandalf? _"_ Aragorn approached as though he might take the child into his arms and shield it.

"There is no doubt."

"What I can tell the dark spell cast was meant to kill. Why the child lives I do not know."

The wizard considered Tauriel a moment, "You must resemble his mother. For I heard a woman's voice cry out and it was silenced just as swiftly."

The orc stood in the corner wringing its hands as though it did not like that the child was so far from it. " _You is able to be helping Harry Potter, Sir Wizard?_ "

"Was it this beast? For it has powers- we have seen them! _"_ Aragorn asked harshly wondering if he should have indeed felled the small creature the moment he'd laid eyes upon it.

Gandalf knelt before the orc and took its hand, he could feel its magic. Unlike any he'd ever seen and yet not a drop of it seemed dark. The creature was certainly not of the Istari despite the magic that thrummed around it. To tell the truth when he felt its power Gandalf was somehow reminded of a safe and cozy home- perhaps like the cozy Hobbit Holes of the Shire.

"It is likely that this orc saved the baby's life. For it is no secret that it holds a great love for this child. _"_ That alone was an incredible fact- that an orc could feel love enough to do what this one had done. Ventured a great distance to bring its charge to the safety of the elves.

Clearing his throat Gandalf nodded his head and tapped his chest, "Gandalf." And then pointed to it.

It seemed to understand what he was after and not a moment later it mimicked him, "Dobby."

The small orc clambered up the chair to reach the babe who went gladly into its arms. Holding the babe it announced, "Harry Potter."

The first name was a mannish name and he could not place the second name. It was no wonder the hobbits and Aragorn had mistook the child for a man babe with its first name being so very clearly a name of the race of men. But then, Orcs were not much in the habit of name-giving.

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Gandalf sat puffing upon his pipe on the balcony as he pondered deeply at what must be done for he felt that the curse was still attached to the child. Removing it could mean the death of the child but to leave it there might be even worse.

He thought of the creature Gollum and how it had been twisted by the Ring and of the creation of the Orc race. A cursed elf might turn even worse. Time was short and a decision must be made before he left with the newly formed fellowship.

The next morning he relayed his musings to Elrond whom looked deeply troubled at the news that the child was still afflicted with a death curse. But the Elf Lord agreed that they could not allow the child to suffer with such a curse upon it- an attempt should be made to remove it.

It was arranged that very afternoon to have his best healers present in the Halls of Healing. Tauriel was summoned from her small home with the orc called Dobby and the elfling. Dobby staunchly refused to let Harry out of his sights and every time he was ushered from the room to wait alongside the red haired woman he simply snapped his fingers back to the babe's side. Gandalf saw the futility of keeping the orc away and thus allowed it to stay in the corner.

" _They is removing the badness, yes. Dobby understands now."_ He'd thought they had been planning on sending Harry Potter back home to Hogwarts, without Dobby. It seemed as though he was wrong, they seemed interested in his scar more than anything else.If these people could do such a thing for his little wizard friend Dobby would let them. Harry Potter would want to be free of the Dark Lords magic he was sure. And perhaps once the Dark Lords magic was gone they could go home.

The babe screamed as Gandalf held his staff above him and chanted. Instantly the oppressive weight of magic hung heavily in the hall of healing. It swirled and pulsed like a living being around the child. A snap like a bolt of lightning sounded as a wave of black magic poured from the scar filling the room with a dark miasma that made all present shiver at the evil.

But Gandalf stood rooted to his spot, calling upon his powers to vanquish the dark spell. Blinding light and the swirling shadows dueled viciously above the child. In the end light overtook the darkness, piercing through valiantly.

"Oh no." The wizard gazed sadly at the babe, it lay still and silent. The child had ceased to draw breath and a great cry poured from the healers present as they frantically swarmed the small body. After several minutes of attempting to revive him they had to stop when their efforts appeared futile. Two of the healers had to be removed from the room, so distraught were they. Even Lord Elrond could not keep the tears from flowing down his cheek. To have been given such a hope only to have it snatched from them in so cruel a manner.

The worst of it was the kindly orc who seemed to be in denial as it approached the babe, calling to it. It clambered onto the bed and took the still body into its arms and spoke to it clearly expecting an answer. Tears began to stream from its large eyes as it cried out to Gandalf. There was no mistaking the question despite the language barrier 'What have you done!?'

The wizard held his head low, the elves would no doubt despise him forever. Though it had not been his fault- it was the sheer evil of the curse that had snuffed the innocent life.

For a moment Elrond thought Tauriel had come into the room and he made to call out to her when he realized he was mistaken. A translucent woman with fire-red hair drifted towards the babe. The woman and Tauriel could have been sisters, so startling was the resemblance. The spirit leaned over her child and sweetly placed a kiss upon his brow. With a final smile and look around the room the spirit faded. A weak cry sounded and the weeping within the room stopped. Elrond himself began to tend to the child alongside his healers. Several hours later they deemed to child stable enough with no lasting damage from the curse.

"Dah-by!" The child cried out and in an instant the creature was there weeping once more as the child grasped at one of the ears.

The elfling had died and yet had returned to the land of the living! Tales would be told of this day.

The orc was even less inclined to leave the babes side much to the consternation of Tauriel. The loyalty and love was to be commended was all Elrond could think as the creature appeared to be lecturing the woman on how to feed the child from the leather milk bladder.

It had been decided by Elrond that the child should remain in Tauriel's care for the fact that the orc itself had offered the child to her as well as the fact that the maiden looked like the child's mother. A mother whose love was so powerful she'd evidently fought death itself to save her son. An unprecedented feat worthy of legend.

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Harry yawned as he felt himself awaken from his sleep. Feeling curiously well rested- he'd not been sleeping well ever since the goblet had spat out his name. But what a strange dream he'd had! The recollection was more than he usually remembered of his dreams. The last dream he remembered this clearly was the one about a flying motorbike!

In his dream he'd been carried by a giant Dobby who'd put socks on their heads and then prattled on about omelets. And then there were short people, not unlike professor Flitwick, and Sirius had been there too… And he'd carried a sword and had remained human. Normally when he dreamed of Sirius the man transformed into his animagus form.

Harry pursed his lips, unwilling to open his eyes – not wanting the dream to slip any further. At least Neville wasn't snoring. But that only meant he was late for breakfast… but a moment or two more couldn't hurt.

The dream had then taken a dark turn- a dementor had attacked him but he also recalled his mother. She'd had jewelry for some reason but then, dreams made little sense. He wished he had more dreams with her in them. And then the last part of the dream he could recall involved Headmaster Dumbledore making silly faces at him.

Hunger made itself known until Harry could no longer put off getting up. Opening his eyes with another jaw-popping yawn he looked up at the silken ruby red curtain of his four-poster bed. Or rather, he should have seen that. Instead he saw a white stone ceiling. Hospital Wing, then?

But no, he'd remember landing himself in the hospital wing. The stonework on the ceiling was all wrong too. Gone was the vaulted gothic architecture Harry knew quite well having been a frequent visitor to the hospital wing. The architecture currently above him was a lighter white and the mason work was far more intricate and dare he say 'dainty' than the castle's.

Just where was he?

 **Sooo… fun fact my autocorrect likes to forcibly change 'Dobby' to 'Debby'. If this happens I apologize.**

 **But it made me think of Dobby slowly placing a blonde bouffant lady wig on his head and saying, "Dobby is not Debby. But for you Dobby can be…" and then proceeding to blow an air kiss….**

 **Yeah, sorry to leave it on such cliffhanger, but that's all my brain will give me right now.**

 **I'd love to hear what you guys think might happen next?**

 **Who knows I may even get some cool ideas!**


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